


Turning Tides

by Alys_Brauer, miraeyeteeth



Series: Balancing Act [2]
Category: Guardians of Childhood & Related Fandoms, Guardians of Childhood - William Joyce, Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Angst, Bondage, M/M, Possession, Scratching, Twincest, dubcon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-27
Updated: 2014-07-27
Packaged: 2018-02-10 16:52:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,615
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2032593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alys_Brauer/pseuds/Alys_Brauer, https://archiveofourown.org/users/miraeyeteeth/pseuds/miraeyeteeth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On the run from the Empire, Kozmotis and Pitchiner struggle to learn how they need to shift with the turning tides of the shadows.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Turning Tides

Pitch had just been a nickname, a way for Kozmotis to express affection and to give his brother a hard time for having a name like Pitchiner Black when he was one of the main forces that stood against the darkness. It was funny that he had a name that was so opposite to his personality.

It didn’t seem so amusing any more. 

Now, Kozmotis found it a good way to distinguish between who his brother was and who he had been. Because the shadowy thing that he shared his days with was not his brother, not entirely. Pitchiner was, had been, an upstanding, selfless and exactingly honourable man. He wasn’t perfect, by any means; he did have a bit of a temper and his people skills left a little to be desired, but he had always been reliable and caring.

Pitch, though, was like looking at his brother through a funhouse mirror. He could still see the traits and quirks that Pitchiner had possessed, but they were warped, twisted. There was darkness where there had once been shining light. His moral compass seemed to have disappeared entirely; worse, he didn’t seem to see the importance of distinguishing between right and wrong. Fortunately, he still seemed to remember Kozmotis and harboured some kind of affection towards him. Though where there once had been quiet and steady support, there now seethed something bordering on obsession.

And that was when Pitch was in control. Some days were better than others.

Some days the fearlings didn’t just seem to warp his brother, but simply moved his body like it was a puppet. Those episodes were normally, and thankfully, short-lived, but Kozmotis still wore his armour at almost all times. The only time he really took it off was when he was bathing, and even then, his sword was never far from his side. He still loved his brother, but he couldn’t trust the things that lurked inside him.

Which was why he had to tie Pitch back up again after he had scavenged the damaged solar sail from their schooner and managed to jury-rig a small, unobtrusive skimmer. They didn’t have the supplies to venture deep into uncharted systems yet and Kozmotis couldn’t risk exposing Pitch to other people when he disguised himself and left to buy supplies and to determine the level of surveillance the army had active in the area. He would have to know where any patrols were if they were going to leave the dying planet they were hiding on before it was searched.

Pitch had been decidedly unhappy with Kozmotis going anywhere without him, and had made his displeasure known with shrieks like metal scraped over glass and shadows that tried to snatch Kozmotis before he could launch the skimmer. But Kozmotis managed to avoid the grasping darkness and escape the planet, temporarily at least.

Pitch didn’t normally try to use the shadows like that, not even when he… couldn’t really be described as  _ Pitch.  _ Kozmotis didn’t know if that was a good sign or a bad sign, that Pitch was holding back under usual circumstances. In any case, he had other things to worry about just this moment.

He’d been fortunate in the excursion, and managed to get to an isolated little port and barter for the parts he needed to repair and upgrade the ship, as well as get enough provisions to hold them until they could forage at whatever planet they could settle on. And no one had recognized him under his hood, no one arrested him, no one even followed him, and Kozmotis had taken a circular route to make sure of it. Maybe his luck was finally turning around. He could certainly use it.

It was when he came back that everything went to hell. Pitch must have gotten loose somehow, because he came back to a ship that was devoid of all light. Or at least he really hoped the ship was still there, because all he could see was one massive stain of shadow, marring the face of the planet and  _ oh stars if anyone sees that we’re both doomed _ .

“Pitch!” Komotis yelled, banking the skimmer into the darkness and having the solar sail immediately fail as its power source was blotted out. A rough landing sent him sprawling and scrambling back to his feet, fumbling for the star-silver sword he’d hidden beneath his cloak. He couldn’t see a damn thing and he desperately hoped that Pitch was still here somewhere, that he hadn’t let the creature his brother had become loose on the universe-

“ _ General…”  _ A voice that dripped with decay hissed in his ear, making the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. 

Kozmotis clenched his teeth. Okay, Pitch was still on the ship, good. All he had to do now was get him to drop the darkness, and then they could-

Kozmotis felt his sword wrenched away from him, still in its sheath. “No!” He spun around, blind, but his questing hands touched nothing until  _ something  _ suddenly coiled around one of his wrists, and then the other, yanking him back against a solid wall. Only then did the gloom dissipate, and Kozmotis could see the darkness-wreathed form of his twin standing in front of him.

Kozmotis wrenched against the bonds desperately as the grinning shadowy thing advanced on him. “Pitchiner, Pitchiner please, listen to me. You don’t want to do this. I’m Kozmotis, your brother, remember?” There was a sudden surge of movement from the shadows surrounding him and his breastplate and shirt were tugged off, baring his chest to the Nightmare King.

“Oh Koz, don’t worry…” the dissonant, layered voice of the creature cooed. It reached out and laid a hand on Kozmotis’ sternum, tracing a line up to his collarbone. “It’s me,  I’m still in control…” The fingers curled and raked nails like claws down Kozmotis’ chest, drawing four angry red lines down the length of his ribs. “Well, mostly.”

Kozmotis inhaled sharply, wincing. “Pitch, what are you doing?”

“I thought that much would be obvious, brother dear,” Pitch replied lazily, ghosting his hand down Kozmotis’ abdomen. The general sucked in his stomach at the touch, incredibly aware of how vulnerable he was in this situation and not particularly feeling like being gutted today. Pitch seemed to have other ideas, though, and continued downwards until his hand rested on Kozmotis’ belt buckle. He lifted the clasp, undid the belt, and caught his twin’s eyes in his sulphurous gaze. There was a hunger simmering in those yellow eyes, but not for blood or fear, well, not primarily. “It’s been such a long time, hasn’t it?”

Kozmotis gulped. “Pitch,” for this thing was not his brother, despite his words to the contrary. “I- With your condition I really don’t think that-”

“Don’t tell me you haven’t dreamed of it. Longed for it,” Pitch stepped forwards and pushed his thigh between Kozmotis’, grinding against his groin. “We both know that would be a lie…”

Kozmotis jerked under the touch, biting back a groan. He really, really shouldn’t be doing this. This thing was an amalgamation of darkness and shadows and fear, all the things he had sworn to battle, to destroy, to safeguard others from. The last thing he should do was screw it; the last thing he should  _ want _ to do was screw it.

But it was also Pitchiner. And oh stars he had missed Pitchiner. He let out a shuddering breath and let his eyes fall shut. With his eyes closed he could almost pretend that they were back in time, back in that far too short golden age when he and Pitchiner had found completeness in each other, when the loss of his wife and Seraphina’s mother had been soothed by his other half and he thought that he could see a light at the end of this tunnel.

He could almost forget that he was pinned helplessly to a wall and that Pitchiner smelled like ash and hot metal over his natural scent, that there were claws digging into his skin as Pitch pressed harder against his body.

This moment of blissful pretend came to an abrupt end when a hand fisted in his hair and yanked it sharply, making his eyes snap open. “No,” Pitch hissed. “I want you to look at me. I want you to see as well as feel everything that I’m going to do to you. I want you to know that you’re mine, that this is where you belong, where you’ve  _ always _ belonged.” Pitch’s other hand undid Kozmotis’ pants and pulled them down. His cock sprang free, half-hard already, and Pitch hummed in satisfaction. He wrapped his hand around it and started to stroke it into full hardness.

“Pitch, you’re not thinking clearly. Don’t-” Kozmotis gasped out, but he was cut off by a snarl.

“ No! I’m thinking clearly for the first time in CENTURIES! We never should have been separated. We were always meant to face down things together, as a unified whole!” His eyes narrowed, and his voice dropped to a hostile growl. “But you always fought it, didn’t you? It never sat right with you. First that woman, even after she was gone you were hesitant. And then, and then you sided with  _ them _ when they wanted to send us to opposite sides of the galaxy!”

“It… It was the best option we had, Pitchiner…” Kozmotis whispered, a half desperate plea to his twin somewhere inside the shadows.

A wry smile curled over Pitch’s face. “Yes, we can see how well that worked out, can’t we?”

Kozmotis slumped against his bonds at that, guilt rising like bile in the back of his throat. Would it have made a difference, if he had fought harder? Could a better solution have been reached if he had only tried? If he had been a better general, a better brother, could Pitchiner have been spared from this fate? The what-ifs and if-onlys burned like brands in his mind, and a soft whine was the only reply he could force his throat to make.

The hand in his hair slid down to rest on his chin, lifting his face to meet Pitch’s predatory yellow eyes. “Shhhh, brother dear. It’s all right. We’re together now,” he cooed. He dropped his hand from Kozmotis’ face down to his ass, cupping one cheek and gripping it firmly, possessively. The other hand did the same with the left cheek. He pulled Kozmotis forward, claws drawing little points of blood from his flesh. Pitch’s clothes sloughed off like water, and he ground his hips forward, rubbing their hardened lengths against each other. “All alone, no one to try to tear us apart, nothing to get in our way. Just like it used to be. Just as it was always meant to be…”

“Ngh! Pitch…” Kozmotis groaned, no longer sure exactly what he was asking for. His mind was swimming with guilt and regret and worry and lust. He had missed this, the touch of his brother, the way Pitchiner seemed to know just how, and where, to touch him to get the best response. Even changed like this, the pain mixing with the strange pleasure, even  though this thing that was not quite his brother, his lover, he wanted it. He knew he shouldn’t, but he did. Kozmotis wanted his twin’s touch so badly.

Pitch leaned forward, whispering in Kozmotis’ ear even as he continued to rock against his brother’s body, his voice husky with lust. “I’m better now, anyway. More powerful, less… inhibited. If anyone tries to take you away now, I  will  _ tear them apart. _ ”

“No…” Kozmotis shook his head.

“ Yes. You are  _ mine _ , now and forever. No one will ever separate us again,” Pitch growled. “I was holding back before brother.” His smirk broadened into something feral, pointed teeth flashing in the dim light. “Would you like to see what else I can do with these shadows of mine? What else I’ve been y _ earning  _ to do to you for the longest time?”

Without waiting for a response, the shadows around Kozmotis’s wrists tightened, pulling his arms higher above his head, while those around his ankles forced his legs wider apart. Kozmotis groaned, his breath hitching in his chest at the burn. His arms were not meant to be pulled this way, he felt so vulnerable; he was completely exposed.

Pitch watched it all with a hunger he didn’t even try to conceal. For too many years he had been forced to watch what rightfully belonged to him be with another. Then even after that, Kozmotis may have slept with him, but they hadn’t done half the things Pitch had wanted to. There were so many unfulfilled fantasies. Now, with his twin at his mercy, Pitch was going to watch them all come to life. He wouldn’t let up until Kozmotis was screaming for him, begging in a broken whimper. Soon, soon his brother would learn that Pitch was the only one that could give him satisfaction.

If he didn’t? Well then, they were by themselves in the farthest reach of the galaxy, no one would be close enough to hear his brother’s screams. He would break Kozmotis down and build him back up again if that’s what it took to show him. Somehow though, Pitch doubted that would be necessary.

“Now brother,” Pitch purred, trailing kisses down Kozmotis’ jaw, holding his head in place as he half-heartedly jerked away.  His lips made it to Kozmotis’s mouth, and he grinned, kissing him hard, biting down on his lower lip as he tried to turn his head away again, his fingers tightening on his jaw. “I’m going to show you just what you’ve been missing. You’ll see, this is what we’ve both wanted all along.” As he spoke he trailed a clawlike nail down Kozmotis’ abdomen, drawing a line of blood from his neck to his navel. Not too deep, but hard enough to stain his brother’s skin red, and cause a hiss of pain.

“Pitch...Pitchiner,” Kozmotis tried again, struggling against the bonds of the living shadows in a futile attempt to free himself. His skin burned where Pitch was touching him, his mind already clouding with the intense desire he felt. It was Pitchiner’s body, Pitchiner’s voice, but the thing inside...he struggled against the bond that still tied them together, this wasn’t right! This wasn’t Pitchiner! But his body betrayed him, his cock hardening, much to his horror, as Pitch kissed him, as he whispered dark promises in his ear. “Stop this now, please.” If Pitchiner surfaced, if Pitchiner truly came back, surely he would regret these actions. It was wrong to want to take advantage of Pitch when he clearly wasn’t in his right mind, when he couldn’t really give consent, not with the shadows influencing his actions. He had to be strong, for Pitch-

Kozmotis tensed, his entire body shaking, nearly convulsing, as shadows poured over his body. Their inky darkness oozed over his skin, making him feel ill. He could sense it, the light inside him revolting against their touch. Fast on the heels of their touch, came the fear. All encompassing terror, rising to choke him as they slid over the surface of the scrapes Pitch had already made. They seemed to linger over the welts, pushing, sliding into the open wound and slipping under his skin. 

Kozmotis screamed. 

It was fear like he had never felt before, fusing with him as it entered his body. Terror, all encompassing and targeted, seeking out his deepest fears and most erstwhile regrets, pulling them all to the surface and making him tremble. The fear of never seeing his daughter again. The regrets of the past, agreeing with the Tsar and separating from Pitchiner. The uncertainty of loss and never knowing if he would get to see his twin again, to be with him again-

All at once it stopped.

Kozmotis gasped, shaking where he was still pinned. 

“Oops.” The laugh that came from Pitch was not at all regretful, there was a glee and hunger lighting those eyes that had once been so familiar to Kozmotis. “We got a little carried away. Let me make you feel better.” 

Once again familiar hands were on his body, stroking down his now sweaty torso. Kozmotis closed his eyes, biting his lip against the sensation. The fear of never having his brother again was still stark in Kozmotis’ mind, and the sure hands on his skin, the nails grazing along his ribcage, thumbs circling up to rub his nipples- The former general shuddered, moaning softly as heat began to tug on him again. These hands were so familiar. Pitchiner’s hands. His twin and other half. 

“There,” the dissonant voice was right by his ear, hot breath fanning over the outer shell as thumbs circled again. Pressing down, flicking up and drawing another moan from Kozmotis’ parted lips. “Isn’t this better? There’s no need to fear, Kozmotis, I’m right here. I’m never leaving again.”

Bony hips pressed forward, rotating against the arousal that was steadily growing again. Hot and hard, Pitch’s cock pressed against Kozmotis’s, creating friction that stole his breath away. “Pitch,” he gasped, turning toward the voice. “Stars Pitchiner I-” Whatever he had been about to say was cut off as another burst of sensation rocketed through him. A hand on his cock no- No Pitch’s hands were still running over his torso, thumbs pinching his nipples but there was- Stars that had to be- 

Kozmotis tried to look down, but he was forestalled by lips pressing under his jaw, teeth scraping along his jugular. His body was shaking now, the shadows undulating over, around his hardened length making Kozmotis whimper with need. Thought was quickly being abandoned in favour of desire, lust burning through his veins. “Please,” Kozmotis panted, wanting to squirm, to do something, but still held immobile by his twin’s shadows. 

There was a dark chuckle, the sound vibrating against his throat. “Of course,” Pitch purred, biting at the vulnerable neck, marking his territory as more shadows poured over them. They rose from gray stained skin to rove over the uncorrupted one at their mercy. They ran over Kozmotis, causing his fear to spike.

Kozmotis’ heart beat frantically in his chest, a pounding that was not entirely to do with his aroused state. With ever touch of the shadows his anxiety increased, and yet with Pitch still touching him, his lips now trailing down to kiss at the hardened sensitive flesh of his nipples while his actual hand grasped his trembling cock- Kozmotis’ arousal grew with the fear until he was a shivering, whimpering mess of uncertainty and desire.

Then Kozmotis was in a cold sweat as dread spread through his system. “Pitch,” he gasped again, trying to arch away from the wall where he was pinned as something pulsated against his entrance. It wasn’t solid, and yet as it pushed against him, Kozmotis could feel himself stretching as unease turned to panic.

“Breathe,” Pitch whispered against his skin, his thumb rolling over the head of Kozmotis’ cock, causing pleasure to spark again mixing with the disquiet caused by the fearlings. “It’s just fear Kozmotis. You’ve handled it for your entire life. Surely you can accept it now.” 

Somehow the words were wrong. Accept the fear? No that wasn’t quite right and yet- It was filling him. Every pore as it spread over his skin and pulsated deep inside him. It grew larger as more pressed into him, stretching him in undulating waves that caused horror and pleasure to alternate within him, filling him. “Pitch please,” Kozmotis begged, his legs shaking with the force of it all. it was a good thing he was being held up, otherwise they would have given out on him long ago. “Not like this.” His heart pounded faster as desire fought with dismay, and hunger waged war on horror. “I want you.” 

Anything to get the shadows out of him, off of him. 

The shadows pulsed again, expanding inside Kozmotis, pressing against his prostate until he moaned, and then left him all at once. Tender hands cupped his cheeks. “I know you do,” Pitch was whispering as Kozmotis tried to regain his breath. “I’m right here brother. I’ve got you.” 

A strong hand on his waist, his legs being spread wider and then- Kozmotis hadn’t even been aware he’d closed his eyes until they flew open. His chest heaved as his hips bucked forward, and Pitch eased inside him. This- There was no fear accompanying this, this was familiar. Kozmotis’ hand twitched as he tried to lower them, wanting, needing something to hold on to as his twin filled him, pushing in as far as he could in this position. 

Then suddenly his legs were freed from the shadows. Kozmotis slumped, breathing heavily. “Pitch,” the name was half plea as he looked into familiar yet foreign eyes.

A toothy smirk was his only answer. Slender hands slid from his waist down to his ass, grasping him firmly and then running along his thighs. Kozmotis groaned, lost in the sensation he hadn’t known for what felt like eons, willingly forgetting that what he was feeling wasn’t truly what he was craving. This wasn’t really his twin, but it felt so good, everything was so familiar, he was willing to accept the substitute that was so close to what he wanted.

Pitch pressed forward again, and Kozmotis lifted his legs, wrapping them around the bony waist of his twin, drawing him in closer until their hips were flush against each other. “Pitch-” he sighed as he was filled.

The tenderness lasted for only a brief moment, and then Pitch was pulling back. Kozmotis groaned softly, watching his twin’s face. Hips snapped forward, driving into him hard and fast. The hunger in those golden eyes were not his Pitchner, and yet they still made Kozmotis shiver with need. Pitch pulled back again, thrusting into him again, pounding their flesh together with wet slaps and harsh breath. 

Kozmotis swallowed hard, fighting for breath that was driven from his lungs with each powerful thrust. His thoughts scattered and his legs tightened around Pitch’s waist. He needed to hold on to something, and this was all he could manage.

“Pitch!” He cried out, as the next thrust pressed hard against his prostate, causing sparks of pleasure to dance before his eyes. “F-Fuck, Pitch.”

“Shall we be one again brother?” Again that dark whisper by his ear, a purr that is not wholly human, but sounds like his twin all the same. “After all, we’ve always been together, haven’t we Koz?” 

Another hard thrust pressing deep, and all Kozmotis could do was groan, grunting out something he wasn’t even sure of as he nodded. “Yes,” he panted. “Yes. Yes.” Frantic words driven by fired and need, an ache deep inside begging for a release he hadn’t had in centuries. 

He didn’t see the triumphant smirk so consumed was he by need, but he felt the shift with the next thrust. 

Fear blossomed again, starting deep in his core, then oozing outward. It crawled under his skin, forcing it’s way into the cuts Pitch had made in his skin. Darkness that whispered of despair, horrors that he could only imagine. “P-Pitch,” he gasped, torn between pain and pleasure, the touch of the fearlings making him ill even as he teetered on the edge of true pleasure. “W-What-”

“You can’t ask me to go through this all alone brother.” Poison filling his ears as lips trailed along his jaw, moving toward Kozmotis’ gasping mouth. “Not now, after everything. This is only fair after all…” Pitch crooned as he circled his hips, angling his next thrust to press against Kozmotis’ prostate again. He was close, he could feel Pitch throbbing deep inside him. 

A hand was on him again, stroking with each hard thrust inside him until he couldn’t hold on anymore. With a shuddering cry, Kozmotis came, and so did Pitch. Darkness spilled into him, filling his deepest core. 

Any pleasure was dulled by the terror that flooded into him with Pitch’s release. The gasps coming out of Kozmotis now desperate with fear rather than fulfillment. “Pitch-”

Harsh lips cut off his gasp, more shadows filling him, seeking to smother his inner light that was still trying to stubbornly shine, his fading hope trying to dispel the fearlings that sought control of the last Golden General.  “Breathe Koz.” Again the comforting words, but there was no comfort offered in them. “Surely you can handle this. A mere few hundred shadows filling you. There were  _ thousands _ at the prison brother. Can you even imagine?” Lips caressed Kozmotis’ again, forcing Koz’s mouth open with a tongue, and then more shadows.

Kozmotis struggled, desperate tears pricking at his eyes. “Do you feel like you’re drowning?” A falsely tender hand stroked his cheek. “Choking on your fear and despair? Are you suffocating like I did Koz?”

He couldn’t- Kozmotis closed his eyes against the triumph he saw before him. The words made him shake, but the prompted him to fight too. He wouldn’t give in, he couldn’t-

Claws raked down his torso again, opening new wounds through which more shadows poured. More and more until the whispering dissonance became a cacophony in his mind. Hundreds, thousands of the things filling him, possessing him.

They were going to claim they other general. They were going to snuff out his light once and for all. Theirs. All theirs this hated enemy. More and more, they needed more to fill him until he stopped struggling. 

The shadows poured from Pitch into Kozmotis, trying to smother the last light that could stop them.

* * *

 

Pitchiner felt legs around his waist, a body in his arms, warmth around him. He sighed and buried his face in the crook of Kozmotis’ neck, breathing in the scent of him. This was some kind of dream, clearly, but Pitchiner didn’t want to wake up. It had been so long since he’d had a good dream…

Kozmotis made a choked whining sound in the back of his throat and Pitchiner paused, drew back. The gold of his twin’s eyes were being eclipsed by sickly yellow, the color of his skin bleeding away to grey even as a healthy pallor finally started to rise back in Pitchiner’s own flesh. Half-buried memories slammed into him like a flood, the prison, the battle, the escape, and then… No, no, no!

Now he could feel the shadows leaving him, the darkness lifting from his mind, but instead of relief, he could only feel dread and horror as the fearlings infected a new host. No, the weakness had been his, his hand had been the one that opened the door, this was his burden to carry! Pitchiner clenched his jaw and clamped his will down on the darkness that was bleeding into his twin, forbidding the shade from spreading further. He  _ yanked _ the fearlings back, dragging them out of Kozmotis, pulling them back inside his body. He had unleashed the creatures once already, he would not let them escape the only prison he had left to hold them in. The feeling of corruption flooding him once more made bile rise in his throat, but Pitchiner didn’t falter, continuing to drag the shadows out of his twin. He’d leave none behind.

“Stars Koz,” Pitchiner gasped, desperately trying to win the battle. As the darkness rose in the back of his mind again, Pitchiner closed his eyes and pressed a kiss to Kozmotis’ lips. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, and was pulled under once more.

 


End file.
